The music of nature is unusual and miraculous. It is easy to believe given glorious weather. Everybody loves to hear the birds singing.
My mistress admires such voices of wildlife as sounds of storm, wind, thunder, sough of trees, downpour, and of course the sing of birds. The voices of severe weather are not gloomy. They are not frightful, either. They are clear, connect us to cosmos. Only music played by gloomy artists can be ill-omened.
“<Oo-oo-oo-oo!> sang the storm in the loft, (…)”
“Here there was a fearful roaring sound from the trees, (…)”
“And in the next room the doctor began talking of the climate and its influence on the character of the Russian, of the long winters which, by preventing movement from place to place, hinder the intellectual development of the people; and Lyzhin listened with vexation to these observations and looked out of window at the snow drifts which were piled on the fence. He gazed at the white dust which covered the whole visible expanse, at the trees which bowed their heads despairingly to right and then to left, listened to the howling and the banging, and thought gloomily:
<Well, what moral can be drawn from it? It’s a blizzard and that is all about it…>”
“On Official Duty” by Anton Chekhov
Lyzhin, the character of Chekhov’s short story did not believe in natural adversity during hard times for Russian peasants. Also Avital Ronell, contemporary philosopher writes: “I do not believe in disasters but only in the effects of man’s failed , primed by the incessant prod of pollution, planetary exploitation and spoilage: the usual menu of historical recklessness.”
“Stormy Weather: Blues in Winter” by Avital Ronell